


The Doctor Is Not In

by nicostolemybones (fatherlords)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Disordered Eating, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Self-Harm, Trigger warnings:, contamination OCD, references to paranoia and delusions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23332963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatherlords/pseuds/nicostolemybones
Summary: Will should never have been a doctor when he was just a childI do not give permission for my work to appear on any apps nor do I consent to my work being reposted anywhere. If you see my work outside of my tumblr or outside of any blogs/accounts I mention in my fics, please report/contact them or inform me. If you report them, do not report as if it were your own work.My tumblr is @nicostolemybones
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 20
Kudos: 121





	The Doctor Is Not In

Today was not a normal day in the infirmary. Anyone at the doors asking for Will was being met with a very angry Nico harshly growling at them to fuck off. Sure, severe injuries and breakdowns really had to be dealt with, but Nico demanded they be taken to Chiron or Apollo. Because behind the infirmary walls you could hear inconsolable screams, unsettling the campers- the doctor was calm, clinical. 

Nico made his way in, where Will was pacing like a caged animal, pulling his hair so hard a few strands came out, and Will kept hitting the walls and smacking his head and throwing stuff to the floor.

He wasn't okay.

He wasn't okay and it pissed Nico off because there shouldn't be a reason for Will to ever be like this. Will should not be in dire need of psychiatric help. Will should have been outside playing sports or indoors playing fortnite or studying subjects he was interested in or doing literally anything other than being a doctor. 

Because at this point? They were fifteen. Fifteen years old. And Will? On a daily basis, Will was exposed to medical emergencies that leave seasoned hospital workers with ptsd. Will was having to spend all his free time studying way beyond his age and overusing his powers, doing surgeries that required a team of specialists by himself. No anaesth- aneeth- whatever the putting you to sleep with drugs and making sure you don't die people were, no nurses, no actual experts. No cardiologists, radiologists, obstetricians, gynaecologists, midwives, oncologists, anaesthetists- that was the word- but Nico's point was:

Will was a literal fucking child dealing with injuries that would take a whole team of specialists literal decades of their life to be prepared for. Doctors who had been qualified since before Will was even born would not be qualified enough to do what Will was expected to do alone. 

And mental health issues? Will was expected to deal with them too. And it wasn't like it was the occasional anxious camper or the occasional bout of depression. No, Will was dealing with regular overdoses, self mutilation, severely disordered eating, psychosis, dissociative disorders, mood disorders, personality disorders- things that psychiatrists with a PhD were sometimes genuinely unqualified to help with. And Will? Will hadn't even reached middle school before he was working in the infirmary and wouldn't have even graduated middle school by the time he was head medic. Will hadn't seen the inside of a classroom since he was seven. 

Will was a fucking child.

Nico was mad enough that he was an undertaker himself so young, but this? The sheer amount that Will was expected to handle was too much. Being a combat medic? Expected to endanger his life on a battlefield defenseless to treat horrifying wounds no person should ever have to see let alone a child-

Yeah, Nico was fucking livid.

Because Will was having some kind of breakdown or episode from it all. And he shouldn't be because he should never have had to do this. 

Nico had to watch Will completely hysterical and nonsensical, watching him completely falling apart. Nico was the one who had been watching this brewing, had been listening to Will late at night, watching to him becoming paranoid and delusional, flashbacks and night terrors, jumpy, watching him losing sleep, afraid he'd die if he went to sleep, watching Will's odd behaviours spiral into obsessive rituals, watched him wash his hands until they were bleeding, shaking and crying because he was so scared of the germs, had watched Will develop an unhealthy obsession with pure healthy foods to the point that he would have a panic attack at the sight of fatty foods, obsessed with exercise to the point Nico would find him doing sit ups in the dead of night, spine all bruised, and now beginning to lose weight, panicking about that too to the point Will would sit calculating everything that went in or out of his body in an attempt to not lose weight, because by Will's flawed logic, as long as he didn't lose weight his diet wasn't dangerous or disordered.

Will wasn't well. He was traumatised and he had been allowed to spiral this bad, allowed to develop serious disorders, because as long as Will was functional enough to play doctor, nobody truly cared how much it hurt him.

All this responsibility had made Will ill.

Will was not supposed to be a doctor. He was a child. He wouldn't be the doctor now. Will was the patient. The inpatient, in urgent need of psychiatric help, having some kind of breakdown that Nico didn't know enough about to be able to help. 

Nico was in and out- he didn't want to leave Will alone but Austin and Kayla were there too and somebody had called his mama who was on her way and Nico had to make sure he had Will's belongings for his stay. 

His favourite blanket, the soft knitted blue one way too small and threadbare patched up with darker yarn that he'd had since a baby, knitted by his grandma. His small dinosaur plush, buried under his blankets, that Nico knew Will couldn't sleep without. His favourite hoodie- the pastel blue one with the clouds at the top, his favourite cozy yellow cable knit jumper, his favourite grey sweatpants, the cozy dog onesie he liked to sleep in when he was sad. The picture of Will and his mom when Will was seven. The one of him and Nico embracing in the rain. The small box Nico had never seen the contents of that he knew Will kept his dearest memories in. His diary, which Will had shared with Nico, his Frisbee, his favourite trophy from school- the one for his running. Nico's aviator jacket- it was big on Nico so it was the only thing of his that Will could really steal and be comfortable in- it grounded Will when Nico couldn't be there in person to help. And finally, Will's essentials, like his toothbrush and various creams and gels. 

On his way back, Nico's mood switched quickly from sentimental back to anger as people were gossiping ungratefully about the lazy sunshine boy who couldn't possibly be sad and was just faking for attention. Nico had seen too many scars to believe that, hidden beneath the long sleeves of the white shirt Will wore beneath his scrubs, the ones on the tops of his thighs and his stomach and chest and anywhere he could reach. 

Nico returned to Will, who was distraught, begging, because he didn't want to be in hospital anymore. He just wanted to go home. But he needed urgent treatment, he needed it now, and it broke Nico's heart.

Because Will should never have been a doctor, should never have lived the circumstances that lead to him being in this state.

So Nico placed the sign on the front of the infirmary doors, heart heavy with concern. 

'The doctor is not in.'


End file.
